The White Rock
True
story:
A good friend of ours recently got married and placed a notice on the invite: "the bride and groom request that each guest bring a stone, of any size, to the reception. the stones given will lay the foundation of their first home."
Well, we simply had to respond with a special stone...
A good friend of ours recently got married and placed a notice on the invite: "the bride and groom request that each guest bring a stone, of any size, to the reception. the stones given will lay the foundation of their first home."
Well, we simply had to respond with a special stone...
True
story:
A good friend of ours recently got married and placed a notice on the invite: "the bride and groom request that each guest bring a stone, of any size, to the reception. the stones given will lay the foundation of their first home."
Well, we simply had to respond with a special stone.
(Important background: the bride and groom both have a professional and personal interest in the plight of displaced peoples and cultures. You'll see how this is important shortly.)
It just so happened that Linda and I were driving the coast of Michigan's thumb this Summer, and stopped at a relatively new roadside park at White Rock. The story of White Rock is poignant.
This is the full text of the roadside park historical marker:
The Territory of Michigan and “White Rock”
In the early 1800s, “White Rock”, a point well known to the Indians and early voyagers, played a significant role in defining settlements.
The Act establishing the Territory of Michigan was passed January 11, 1805, and took effect June 30th of the same year. In order to facilitate the settlement of the territory, and in accordance with the policy adopted by the United States, a treaty was made November 17, 1807. Governor William Hull, (Michigan’s first governor) acting for the United States, negotiated certain rights and several small reservations with the Ottawa, Chippewa, Wyandotte, and Potawatomi Indian tribes.
The 1807 treaty included part of the state lying east of a line running along the west side of what is now Lenawee and Shiawassee counties, and from about the center of the west line of the last county, northeasterly to “White Rock, in Lake Huron.”
As a result of the 1807 treaty signed in Detroit, the Anishinabeg (Indians) ceded territory to the United States. Also, the large white rock, clearly visible directly east of here in the waters of Lake Huron, was formally named “White Rock.” “White Rock” marked the northeast corner of how far north the white man could settle at that time.
As you can see, the treaty was only good for a few years. By 1836, white settlers had rolled over the entire lower peninsula.
To add some cultural context this is the full text of the second plaque at the park:
“White Rock”: The History, Oral Traditions, and Tales
“White Rock” is steeped in history and oral traditions. Henry Schoolcraft, in his Travels of 1820, speaks of the White Rock and its prominence. He says, “White Rock, an enormous detached mass of transition limestone standing in a lake at the distance of half a mile from the shore. This is an object looked upon as a kind of milestone by the voyageurs and is known to all canoe and boat travelers of the region.”
According to Anishinabeg oral tradition, the White Rock was once much larger and sacred to local Indians. Freshly killed game and other choice food was placed on the White Rock so the Great Spirit, Gitchi Manitou, would know the Anishinabeg were thankful for the gifts received from the natural environment.
The White Rock is still considered a very special place by the descendants of the Indians who first observed its unique qualities, and it continues to be one of the places at which offerings are made.
A local tale from around 1860 relates a story that a group of white people decided to have a square dance on the White Rock. Local Indians warned them not to have this dance, as the White Rock was sacred. Still, two sets of square dancers piled onto the White Rock from canoes. One man decided to heed the Indians’ warning, and remained in the water nearby. Suddenly, as they danced, a bolt of lightning struck the White Rock and killed all the dancers, leaving only the nearby man to tell of the terrible tragedy.
The White Rock we see today rises only about four feet above the waterline and is about twelve feet square in length. According to local historians, lightning has struck the White Rock repeatedly, and the U.S. Air Force used the White Rock for target practice around the time of World War II. This, and the natural effects of erosion constantly at work, are cited as the principal reasons for the White Rock’s rather rapid diminished size.
A bronze plaque, stolen long ago, was once originally fixed to a stone boulder that marked this historic spot. Through the work and contributions of the Deckerville Historic Museum and the Saginaw Chippewa Indian Tribe, this plaque has been replaced and is once again mounted on the original stone boulder still in this park.
In sight of the legendary White Rock, I wandered down to the beach and found a suitably sized stone, resting half above the murky sand, and half below. When I pulled it up, the symbolism was overwhelming.
Here it was, a symbol of white and dark, grounded and exposed, lines and borders.
Over the few days we had the stone at home, all the black silt dried up, blew off and was washed away by rain. The rock, like the lower peninsula in 1836, had become all white.
A good friend of ours recently got married and placed a notice on the invite: "the bride and groom request that each guest bring a stone, of any size, to the reception. the stones given will lay the foundation of their first home."
Well, we simply had to respond with a special stone.
(Important background: the bride and groom both have a professional and personal interest in the plight of displaced peoples and cultures. You'll see how this is important shortly.)
It just so happened that Linda and I were driving the coast of Michigan's thumb this Summer, and stopped at a relatively new roadside park at White Rock. The story of White Rock is poignant.
This is the full text of the roadside park historical marker:
The Territory of Michigan and “White Rock”
In the early 1800s, “White Rock”, a point well known to the Indians and early voyagers, played a significant role in defining settlements.
The Act establishing the Territory of Michigan was passed January 11, 1805, and took effect June 30th of the same year. In order to facilitate the settlement of the territory, and in accordance with the policy adopted by the United States, a treaty was made November 17, 1807. Governor William Hull, (Michigan’s first governor) acting for the United States, negotiated certain rights and several small reservations with the Ottawa, Chippewa, Wyandotte, and Potawatomi Indian tribes.
The 1807 treaty included part of the state lying east of a line running along the west side of what is now Lenawee and Shiawassee counties, and from about the center of the west line of the last county, northeasterly to “White Rock, in Lake Huron.”
As a result of the 1807 treaty signed in Detroit, the Anishinabeg (Indians) ceded territory to the United States. Also, the large white rock, clearly visible directly east of here in the waters of Lake Huron, was formally named “White Rock.” “White Rock” marked the northeast corner of how far north the white man could settle at that time.
As you can see, the treaty was only good for a few years. By 1836, white settlers had rolled over the entire lower peninsula.
To add some cultural context this is the full text of the second plaque at the park:
“White Rock”: The History, Oral Traditions, and Tales
“White Rock” is steeped in history and oral traditions. Henry Schoolcraft, in his Travels of 1820, speaks of the White Rock and its prominence. He says, “White Rock, an enormous detached mass of transition limestone standing in a lake at the distance of half a mile from the shore. This is an object looked upon as a kind of milestone by the voyageurs and is known to all canoe and boat travelers of the region.”
According to Anishinabeg oral tradition, the White Rock was once much larger and sacred to local Indians. Freshly killed game and other choice food was placed on the White Rock so the Great Spirit, Gitchi Manitou, would know the Anishinabeg were thankful for the gifts received from the natural environment.
The White Rock is still considered a very special place by the descendants of the Indians who first observed its unique qualities, and it continues to be one of the places at which offerings are made.
A local tale from around 1860 relates a story that a group of white people decided to have a square dance on the White Rock. Local Indians warned them not to have this dance, as the White Rock was sacred. Still, two sets of square dancers piled onto the White Rock from canoes. One man decided to heed the Indians’ warning, and remained in the water nearby. Suddenly, as they danced, a bolt of lightning struck the White Rock and killed all the dancers, leaving only the nearby man to tell of the terrible tragedy.
The White Rock we see today rises only about four feet above the waterline and is about twelve feet square in length. According to local historians, lightning has struck the White Rock repeatedly, and the U.S. Air Force used the White Rock for target practice around the time of World War II. This, and the natural effects of erosion constantly at work, are cited as the principal reasons for the White Rock’s rather rapid diminished size.
A bronze plaque, stolen long ago, was once originally fixed to a stone boulder that marked this historic spot. Through the work and contributions of the Deckerville Historic Museum and the Saginaw Chippewa Indian Tribe, this plaque has been replaced and is once again mounted on the original stone boulder still in this park.
In sight of the legendary White Rock, I wandered down to the beach and found a suitably sized stone, resting half above the murky sand, and half below. When I pulled it up, the symbolism was overwhelming.
Here it was, a symbol of white and dark, grounded and exposed, lines and borders.
Over the few days we had the stone at home, all the black silt dried up, blew off and was washed away by rain. The rock, like the lower peninsula in 1836, had become all white.
Posted: Wed - August 16, 2006 at 08:40 PM
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Published On: Aug 16, 2006 08:40 PM
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Published On: Aug 16, 2006 08:40 PM